Sticks and Stones
by streco
Summary: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. ... What a load of crap. Words hurt the most, and actions, and heartbreak. There are no clever rhymes for the real problems of life, like being a mutant birdkid on the run... again. MF
1. Prologue: May Break My Bones

**Sticks and Stones**

Broken bones will always heal.

Nobody knows that better than me and my flock, and there's no doubt about that. You show me your scars and I'll show you fifteen to match it and conquer it. It's the way it's always been, and I don't think we'd have it any other way. Safety has been tried and tried on us, but we've never really known what "safe" was. If you ask me, it's flying with five of my favorite people, high above the treetops, oblivious to the issues of human society. Maybe because we aren't _human_.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. Angel recited this to me once, looking up from a young child's book. She cocked her head to one side, possessing more knowledge than any forty-year-old man ever will, and asked me, "Max, that's a lie, isn't it?" The way she phrased it was more of a disappointed sentence, not a naïve question of desire.

I remember studying her fragile face, her white-curly blonde hair, her taller-than-a-third-grader frame, and realizing that yes, in fact, it was a lie. Or maybe, it depended on the way you looked at it.

"I think they tell this to young kids so they won't let people's insults bother them, sweetie," I answered, and bounced her curls. "They tell it so kids won't take the insults to heart and won't let it make them angry. It's just supposed to be a nice rhyme."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But... words are the only thing that do hurt, Max."

She dismissed herself, tossing the book on the table lightly. She walked out the door of our new home, built by people Mom hired, and I saw her take off into the sky, either thinking way too much about things way beyond her maturity level, or thinking about the next time she'd be allowed to try to give Total a bath.

I sat and pondered this phrase, wrote it out on a napkin a few times. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. It was quite the opposite from what we'd learned. Many of us have been through broken bones without shedding a tear. But to think about all the tears we'd cried over Jeb, Angel going missing, absence of parents, Ari... and to think of me, all the tears I'd cried over _Fang... _the sticks and the stones were the last things hurting us.

Words are what hurt the most.

Words, and actions. And people themselves. Not physically inflicting pain, but simply existing in a way different than you wish they do.

Example: Fang and the Red-Haired Wonder. Fang and Dr. Amazing. Fang and any other girl whose name doesn't happen to be Maximum Ride.

Maybe I'm biased.

All things said, my feelings for Fang have grown more and more confusing. He's the first shoulder I look for to cry on. He's the only person I feel comfortable with sharing everything I'm thinking with. He's always the first one I think of when something happens. He's just a go-to kind of guy, I guess, and my feelings have been confused because of this.

But Fang hasn't ever said anything that's hurt me — he's only acted. Acted and made himself happy, even though it's not what made me happy. He kissed me, and that made me happy, but each time I turned and ran. Does it make logical sense? No. But it seemed to at the time. I hurt him as much as he hurts me, so what if we canceled that out and made something beautiful out of it?

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

I was beginning to think the entire point to hope was completely full of bullshit.

Call me pessimistic.

**A/N:** I'm not sure where I'll go with this.

Well, actually, let me reintroduce myself. I'm Stephanie Pascal, formerly x Step On Me x. I switched over to the RENT fandom a few months ago, and now that I read the Final Warning (even though I don't like how it went to life lesson, Go Green! mode) I realized I missed Iggy a ton. Haha cause I love him! But I also missed the Max/Fang romance. Which I love just as much as Iggy himself. (See my profile). Anyway! I'm back and I'm knockin'.

Like Mr. Opportunity.

This is really really short, but it's only a prologue. I'm gonna go with the flow on this one. And try not to get sucked into a hurricane. (: This is post MR4, but if you haven't read it, it'll be okay, I'm not going to reveal much. So ... review!


	2. Rise

_1. Rise_

_We live on front porches and swing life away,  
We get by just fine here on minimum wage.  
If love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end,  
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand._  
"Swing Life Away" Rise Against

When days started off like this, I was a happy camper.

My eyes opened to be greeted with the sight of ashy grey clouds over the horizon. They hung heavy over the sky and were releasing their rain, as if tears from the heavens were beckoning toward the ground. Or something meaningfully symbolic like that, I don't know. Don't judged me — I wasn't raised on Wonderbread. I make this stuff up as I go along.

My room had the most windows in the house. I think Mom did this on purpose — she knew how much I loved the weather, and to see the sky. It reminded me of how free we really were, and the sky itself always reminded me that I had a home there, if nowhere else. Be it wet, or cold, it was a home nonetheless, and better than the dirt.

The clock on my night stand read 6 AM, and I tumbled out of bed and walked into the kitchen. I pulled an apple out of the fridge and instantly sunk my teeth into it, chewing slowly and savoring the taste. Heaven. In fact, everything in the fridge was heaven, even the spinach and all the other disgusting things Mom had thrown in there. "Please, just take it," she'd begged. "If you get dangerously low on food, you'll know there's still something in there until you can get more."

Gotta love her, seriously. She's the best mom I ever could've imagined.

And although I love her and Ella unconditionally, and am beginning to respect Jeb a bit more, I still had to isolate myself from the world. The workers Mom hired to build this place thought it was going to be a cabin, when it's really our home on our ex-home's property... it's right on top of where the E-shaped house was blown up. The trees have since begun to grow back.

Our refrigerator lacks a magnetic exterior, due to many issues caused by Nudge. She'd walk by and the door would swing open, flinging condiments across the kitchen. Lacking control over her new power, she was embarrassed, though it was anyone but her own's fault.

The apple hanging from my mouth, I exited the house, still wearing shorts and a tanktop, and went for a short walk. My bare feet ached from stepping on rocks and jagged branches, but the rising sun was sitting on my shoulders, and I hurried to the shore of the small pond down the dirt path so I could make the sunrise.

It had almost become a bit of a ritual for me — wake up earlier than everyone else, grab a quick snack, and hustle down to the beach. Recount the past, make plans for the future, and admire the sunrise. It was a fabulous stress reliever, something I desperately need.

Some days, Fang will rise earlier than me, and come to watch the sunrise. Usually, though, when he's early, he's in his room, doing something, though I've never asked him what.

I then noticed that the ashy clouds from minutes earlier had cleared, and I was now strolling in a bit of a drizzle, though the sun was coming up. I nearly ran to the beach, not wanting to miss the beauty of the rising sun.

It was beautiful, as it always was. I sat on the sand and stretched out my wings a little, enjoying the feel of warm rain falling on them. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I spun around, relieved to only see Fang, barefoot and pajama'd as well. "Come here often?" I joked, and he cracked a crooked smile, but this time, it didn't disappear like the filcker of lightning. It stayed stuck on his face as he lowered himself beside me.

The two of us looked out at the horizon, the colors resembling a fruit salad. "What do you think about when you come here?" Fang asked after a moment of peace. His voice was quiet, and he didn't turn to face me.

"Stuff. The past. The future. Ari. Jeb. Anne. My mom." _You_.

He nodded in understanding. We sat in silence. The rain continued to fall. "Remember way back when, when I suggested we find an island, drop off the face of the planet?"

I nodded.

"This is great, don't get me wrong." He waved his arm toward the house. "But... they know where we are, you know? I want to feel..." he stopped, and I could tell he was tripping over the word "safe."

Embarrassed, I remembered back to when he'd voiced the idea to begin with. My eyes drifted down to my forearm, where the scar still remained. I remembered how angry Fang had been, how worried, yet how supportive. I remembered how hard I had cried. And he'd been there. He'd taken me into his arms without question while I sobbed, rubbed my back. He'd known what I needed. In a twisted sort of way, it made me want to burst into tears more often.

But not really.

The one thing that confirmed that he cared was that not once had he ever made fun of me because of that incident. He knew how stressed I had been. But I'd scared the crap out of him. Maybe I should do that more often... hmm.

"I know how you feel," I agreed after a pause. "All this was given to us, and it's great, but there's got to be a catch. Even with my mom behind it... she probably doesn't know about it, but she could be being conned, or something."

"Max," Fang came in directly after I had finished speaking. "You..." he stopped and rubbed his temples with his hands. "I'm happy for you. You found your mom. Jeb's your dad... it might suck, but it was what you wanted at one point. And you _know_. Or... you think you do. I don't want to burst your bubble... but I've been sitting on this."

It was odd how talkative Fang had become with me lately. Well, he'd been like this all along, just... not all at once. Usually his speeches built off of what I had previously said. This was him branching off. "You know how we've been being fed so much information? Like... first my dad was unknown, and then the papers from the Institute said he knew my mom. We found that picture of Gazzy in that house, which ultimately led nowhere."

He stopped to make sure I was still following. I swallowed and nodded encouragingly, knowing where this was going, but hating it all the same. "I know you're not going to go with me on this. But you think you've found it — how many times have we thought we'd found it? This all seems like too big a coincidence. What if... what if Ella's mom _told _on you. Or, not even that. She seems like a great woman. What if she told one of her colleagues, whom she trusted, and _they _tattled? Then Jeb found out and got her in on the entire plan. You know?"

It was probably the longest speech I'd ever heard Fang make, but it didn't strike me as odd, just as good. It was nice that he was actually speaking to us.

But what he was saying was making way too much sense. I met Ella by chance, got shot, went to her for help, and her mom happens to be a vet who doesn't speak a word about a human-avian hybrid? And I'm coincidentally her daughter, with the man who I _dreamt _was my father in previous years of my life? It seemed like too much luck for a girl like me, who grew up in a dog crate for the first years of my life.

The sun had since risen, and we were still sitting there, me thinking over what Fang had said.

"An island sounds... nice," I decided. "We'll run it by the kids today."

Funny how I'd just made that decision and not thought about it all that much. Being relaxed was great.

Eventually, the rain stopped, and the sun was beating down on us. Together, we rose, and walked back to the house.

Upon entering the kitchen, we encountered two things: one, the smell of Iggy cooking breakfast. Good. Two, kissy noises, provided by Iggy himself. Bad.

Sighing, I gave him a good morning punch, and then kissed Nudge and Angel on the cheek. I ruffled Gazzy's hair as I walked past him, retrieving the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the table, where Nudge was sitting quietly, challenging Angel to a staring contest.

**A/N:** This was longer, and again, just introductory chapters. I'm not sure when there'll be action.

I just reread TAE. My outlooks: Dr. Martinez is the Voice. And I'm trying to figure out what's up with JP. He's going back and forth with Max's hair color — in the beginning of TFW, it says something about a leader with brown hair... what the hell? And I'm trying to figure out if global warming was his point all along. If so, it certainly fits, but... I don't know. It's not adventurous enough.

I've found that I don't read MR for any spectacular plot lines, because the third and fourth stunk in that respect, in my opinion. I read it for the characters, because I like them so damn much. And I think that's what everyone feels. Regardless on how suckish the plots are, JP writes characters so well and makes them lovable, which ultimately leads to the growing fanfictions in this fandom.

Another thing — I remember when this fandom had five pages to it, which was when I first started writing here for the first time ever. It now has 121. That's so amazing. (:

Sorry I just ranted for a long time... outlooks, opinions? I'd love to hear them.

Review, anyway!


	3. Slap

2. _Slap_

_All my complaints shrink to nothing  
I'm ashamed of all my somethings  
She's glad for one day of comfort  
Only because she has suffered.  
_"Fully Alive" Flyleaf

It'd been quite a relaxing morning — something that doesn't happen often enough to my family. The staring contest had been lost by Nudge, simply because Angel had persuaded her to look away. I came down on her, telling her it was _not _okay for her to use her powers against Nudge, one of the weaker in the mind of the group. Angel huffed, but understood. God. Moody seven-year-olds.

Angel's birthday had been about a month ago, and next up was Nudge's, or so we thought. Jeez, they were all growing up so fast. And growing up so well, thanks to this house. They _felt _safe… but now I wasn't so sure, after the common sense streak Fang had just gone on. Frowning, I tried to figure out a way to phrase what I had to say properly… and correctly.

"So," I began conversationally, swallowing the lump in my throat, "uh… Fang and I were talking." I stopped and looked at the floor, feeling my insides churn. How could I suggest taking this from them? They were so happy, something they hadn't been in quite a while. This was nothing short of paradise for them, and now we older kids had to go and be sensible.

"Are you breaking up again?" Nudge nearly screeched, her eyes widening and her fist tightening around her glass of orange juice. Suddenly, the glass itself shattered, spilling juice and glass upon her lap.

"No," the two of us quickly replied, alarmed. Whoa. No way. There was _no way _I'd be able to deal with that again. When I'd split up from Fang (… and Iggy and Gazzy) I felt like I'd lost one half of my body. Like I'd had a stroke. A heart attack. Aneurysm.

I hurried over to her and picked up all the glass, accidentally slicing myself with it a few times, and then wrapped it in paper towels, chucking it into the trash. She wiped herself off and tried to calm down. I rubbed circles in her back. "Not that, no. Never again," I promised, and Fang gave a small nod.

"Are you two daaaaaa-tiiiiing?"

I scowled, but felt my face heat up. "No, _Iggy_." I didn't turn to see Fang's expression. I was sort of afraid to. "Fang and I were talking," I began again. "He opened my eyes to the reality of Mo — … Dr. Martinez. I… I think we should move," I closed my eyes and felt the emotions coming — questions about Mom's sincerity, wanting safety… the flock being angry. I swallowed down the tears. The last thing I was going to do right now was cry.

"_What?_" Iggy seethed, and the other kids were speechless, gaping.

"We —"

"I _just _got to know this place!" Iggy's sightless eyes were narrowed as he shouted.

"Island," Fang butted in. "Isolated. Alone." He paused, and, dripping with sincerity, he whispered, "Safe."

When Fang says a word with sincerity in a whisper, you _know _it's a good idea, and you _know _he means it. I was so glad he'd contributed, and I was now confident that the kids would agree to my plan. Nudge wiped tears from her eyes, and Gazzy looked just as angry as Iggy did. Angel didn't look shaken by the news — then again, she'd probably already known.

"Okay," Nudge nodded. "I understand. I was thinking the same thing, Max. Like, Dr. Martinez seems really nice, but it seemed too good to be true, you know? So did all this," she beckoned toward the house, "but I understand." She sniffled and wiped her eyes some more, no doubt trying not to sob.

"I'm sorry, Nudge," and I really was. I walked over to her and gave her a big hug, noticing how tall she was getting, how I couldn't rest my chin on her head anymore. So I held her and tried not to cry myself. Being the bad guy really sucked sometimes… but I had to do what I felt was safe. "That's my girl," I whispered to her.

Angel walked over and wrapped her arms around my waist, and then also around Nudge's, making a group hug out of it. We rocked back and forth. "It'll be okay, girls. Don't worry." Wow, what an emotional morning. Group hugs by the girls? Not an everyday treat.

When we split apart, the Gasman stood by Iggy, as I'd envisioned. I totally understood. It wasn't fair. But neither was life. We were going to have to deal, forced to cope. "I'm sorry, guys. I really… I wish we could stay here. I do. Really."

"Then why _don't _we? There's nothing making us _leave_," Iggy spat. "Oh, wait — _you _are! How come every time we get to a place we like, we have to _leave? _Every time I get used to the surroundings, we _bail_. I _hate _this!" he shouted, and he punched a cabinet. "This is _useless! _Why can't we settle in one place, and just stay there? Why can't we make it _easy _on ourselves?"

"Iggy, it's not that easy," I responded calmly. "They know where we are. They'll get us, test us, hunt us down, _kill _us."

"What else is new? We dealt with it before!"

"Iggy," I walked over and tried to envelop him in a hug, but he shoved me away, and then grabbed me and held me at arm's length. Suddenly, I was afraid. I'd never seen Iggy this angry, especially with me. But I couldn't let him know this. "I'm sorry. I really am. Things would be so much easier if we weren't on the run, but we'll find an island and just stay there. Sit in hammocks all day. Fly where we want to. Be _happy_."

"You _always _say that!" he shouted. "Why don't _you _go, and we'll stay here, Gazzy and I, so we don't _slow you down? _Hmm? Because God knows I'm so _blind _that I can't do _anything_, and Gazzy's too _young_, and I guess Angel can go with you because she's your _favorite! _And we'll sit around, and wait for them to find us!"

I thought about that. He'd just contradicted himself. "That's why you'd come with us," I reasonably told him.

His face was bright red, almost matching his strawberry blonde hair. Breathing heavily with anger, he released me and turned around, his shoulders rising and falling quickly. "Iggy —"

Nothing could've prepared me for what happened next.

Slowly, he turned around, teeth clenched. Without any warning, Iggy, with an open palm, slapped me across the face, his own expression reading shock after he'd done it.

Next to me, Nudge and Angel gasped, and even the Gasman took a few steps back from Iggy. We'd never seen him this angry.

Out of nowhere, Fang appeared from behind me, gingerly pushing me to the side and flying past me, right up in Iggy's face. Fang was eye level with Iggy's nose, so he angled his face upward when he spoke. "What the _hell _are you doing?" he demanded. "Don't _touch _her! She's trying to take _care _of us! She's trying to make sure we're _safe _for once! And if you're going to be an arrogant know-it-all and take advantage of what she does for us, you're more than welcome to stay here and have you and your unthankful little ass kicked and tested again."

He shoved Iggy, turned around, and stalked into his room, making sure the door slammed on the way in.

Iggy, seeming to get the point but not wanting to be mature about it, spun on his own heel and stalked into his room, down the other hall.

Which left the four of us still standing there.

"We're leaving tomorrow," I shouted to the household. "Pack your bags…"

Angel turned to me. "Don't worry, Max," she said. "Iggy's just being a moody teenager. He's going to go. But Fang's really mad at him, and Iggy's mad at Fang, too. It'll be okay."

I blinked twice. "I'm going to my room…" I trailed off, and shut the door behind me.

It took all of me not to cry. Iggy had _slapped _me. He'd always been very tolerant of everything, even with his blindness, but he'd just cracked, and _hit _me. I tried so hard, and never really got much credit. Collapsing onto my bed, I screamed into my pillow, and allowed a few tears to fall.

But then I stopped them. I had a flock to lead.

**A/N:** Wow! Thanks SO much for all the reviews. I really wasn't expecting many, but I'm glad you guys reviewed! This is awesome.

Well, bad news. My laptop -- which held all of my writing on it -- has just fucked itself. Excuse my French, but the hard drive fried. I didn't back up ANYTHING. I just lost all of my writing. ALL of it. Thankfully, I hadn't written much of this, so I'll be keeping with it. Whenever I can get to a computer, I will type up the most recent chapter that I've written. Since we're poor, my dad can't buy me a new laptop yet, and his computer just off-limits, but I'll be getting a new one soon because I do great in school and will need one for high school.

This chapter kind of blew… but it's an update. Next chapter is when the real action starts… I guarantee it.

Don't expect often updates, again, guys, because of my lack of una computadora. But I'll try my hardest; don't lose faith in this story!

**Music for this chapter: **_Riot! _Three Days Grace, _Innocent_ Our Lady Peace


	4. Fall

_3. Fall_

_I found myself in the forest, I found love in the forest;  
We just need time to try and find ourselves again,  
Or just time to breathe.  
_"The Fort" Between the Trees

The next morning, as I'd _dreamed_, wasn't as awkward as the preceding night. None of us spoke as we gathered our things and bid the house we'd safely lived in for quite a while _adieu_, and then stepped outside into the warm day. We took flight one by one, Fang in the back, me in the front, and flew over the trees. Frowning, I internally said good-bye to the sunrises on the beach.

Iggy was still giving me unhappy vibes, and Fang was probably a little agitated as well, so I flew next to Nudge.

My hair was flapping in the wind, so I pulled it out of its ponytail and let it fly as it desired. It was marvelous, to be free like this. No priorities, just go with the breezes, in tempo with the trees. A motto, way of life. See, in this perspective, being a mutant birdkid on the run seems harmless. Fun, almost.

The younger kids and I did flips and spins, careful not to lose any of our backpacks, or Total, who was snug in Iggy's arms, complaining about his false alarm wings and how he wished he had them back. Oh, I think I forgot to mention that. False alarm wings. Right. Heh, well, you see, Total's wings _fell off _when they were halfway full grown. It didn't hurt him... it was almost like losing a tooth. A little pinch, and then gone.

Along with that, Akila had died after flying up in the air too long, directly after receiving her. Who knew. Angel, Nudge, and Total himself went through agonizing depressions, but they were fine now, clearly.

"I wouldn't be such a nuisance!" he cried dramatically. "Just end me now!"

Iggy shrugged. "Okay."

To my horror, he simply dropped Total.

Déjà vu: hadn't I been here before?

Groaning, I shot after Total and scooped him into my arms. A headache was growing, or maybe a migraine; each flap of my wings hurt my skull. I flew back up to the flock and pressed Total back into Iggy's arms. "Thank you," I shot at him, and rubbed my temples, looking over at Fang. "Where to?" I asked under my breath.

"South," he answered quickly. "Only place _to _go. Toward the equator. Tons of islands off the coast of Mexico. Hawaii. Et cetera."

I nodded curtly and pressed a hand to my forehead. "_Already_," I mused, and turned to look at Fang again. "Would you believe it?" Strips of brown hair were whipping in my face, so I tied it back again. "It's ridiculous. Think there's something wrong with me? Vertigo? Head trauma? One too many mutants to take care of?"

His eyes smiled. "Along those lines, probably."

We flew for a good four hours without stopping, and then, I knew it was coming — "Max? I'm hungry."

This was followed by three other laments of, "Yeah, I'm starved, can we go eat?" "FOOD!" "Snackage is needed," and things of that nature. I nodded, and turned to Fang once more. God, I asked him everything these days, didn't I? "Straight down, behind those trees?"

"Plan."

I angled myself downward and nearly landed face first in a clearing of mud, catching myself before I did so. "Land farther forward!" I shouted, sweeping my arm forward to motion it. They landed in a nicer section, and I met them, wiping my feet off on grass. "Alright... do we have money?"

"Not a lot," Fang reported, and pulled out four twenties. "Eighty bucks is all we have, until we can find another jerk to steal money from." His eyes smiled again. It's great how his _eyes _smile more often than his _lips _do. Great. Great stuff.

We walked into a city, people bustling by to get to work on time, or to the nearest Dunkin Donuts. Surveying around for a bit, Fang decided, "We're in New Mexico. Really far south. Santa Teresa, really close to the Texas border. Mexico's near here too. Where are we headed; Mexico?"

"I don't know yet. Let me think."

"Whoa!" Gazzy explained, pointing to a big restaurant that was called _Bella's_. "Can we go in _here?_"

My mind flashed back to our last restaurant experience — pouring olive oil on a waiter's head, being captured mid-picture. It was a wonder that nobody had already recognized us as "those flying kids."

"I'm sure we're able to eat in big restaurants now, Gaz, but we don't have enough money to be eating in a big place like that. I promise, though, once we get a lot, we'll do it. For now, let's just go to, like, Mickey D's."

And we did. Nudge, who was thankfully off of her vegetarian streak, ordered first — four double cheeseburgers, a shake, and a soda. Gazzy and Angel got the same thing. I ordered six chicken sandwiches with two shakes, and led the younger kids to the table. Iggy and Fang came over with their own orders, and to my surprise, there was no bloodshed.

Total, who was acting as Iggy's guide dog again, whispered, "Can someone pass me a burger?" Angel, without looking, slipped him a patty and he nearly inhaled it.

"Alright, so here's the plan. We finish eating here, head wherever, south. We'll fly over Mexico and check for any islands off the coast. If we can't find any off of Mexico, we fly towards Hawaii. If none there... we Google 'islands off the coast of land masses.' Deal?"

Fang nodded curtly, and I could tell he was on alert, marking exit routes, figuring out probability of Erasers, or anything like them, showing up. I could totally relate to him — I was doing the same thing, subconsciously.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," the Gasman put in, around a mouthful of burger. He took a sip of his shake too quick. "Brain freeze!"

"Yeah, me too," Nudge nodded. "I kind of missed going places, you know? Like, it's great to be safe and all. But I missed seeing the world, and eating like this, and scrounging for food. You know? Like, I feel like it's a part of me. And it's nice to leave it for a while, but this is how I belong. Maybe I'm weird... or stupid. I don't know."

"No, I get it, Nudge," I smiled at her, and sipped my soda. "I know how you feel. I get really antsy being in one place for too long. But I think an island would be good — no other people around. Just us, being free. No planes flying overhead at times, like what used to happen in Colorado. I know what you mean."

Iggy didn't say anything. He was adding to my headache, which was rising in intensity.

Angel was content with her food, but nodded heartily.

See? My decision was great.

After we ate our food, we left our trash and bailed. I took Total this time, and stood behind a tree and shot up into the air, out of eyesight as quickly as I could manage. Five more birdkids rose after me, and as soon as they did, Iggy found his way next to me. "Hey, Max?" his voice was gentle. "I'm sorry about what happened. I just — you have to understand, I can't see — so moving is hard for me, and stuff. I was just really angry... I'm sorry I slapped you."

"It's okay, Ig," my heart warmed. "I'm just —"

Just like that, things went wrong again.

An indescribable pain exploded in my head — much like the brain attacks, if not worse. I struggled to hold on to Total; each thing that came in contact with my skin ignited and burned viciously.

Dropping Total, dropping consciousness, dropping like a stone, I fell, clutching my head in my hands. My last coherent thought was, _why is this happening again?_

— — —

With hawk eyes, Fang watched Max and Iggy converse. He was apologizing, and on his own, too. He was happy with this. Max didn't need Iggy on her conscience, and Fang was sure she was feeling bad about it. She always did, if she admitted it or not.

Then, Fang realized that Total was falling, and so was she.

"Max?" Iggy was confused.

"_Max?_" Angel called out, staring down at her. "Ow!" She shouted, holding her temples. "I can't get her thoughts, her head — ow!"

Brain attack, Fang concluded.

"Nudge! Get total!" he ordered, as he shot through the clouds, reaching Max and hovering after he'd caught her. It was sudden and unexpected, and she hadn't had one for months. As he held her comfortably in the air, he realized that the hand that was supporting her neck was burning up.

"Iggy!" he shouted. "Backup?" he wanted to see what was charring his own skin on Max's neck. Quickly, Iggy was at Fang's side, and they transferred her. Fang was trying to lift up her neck, see what it was, but it was nearly impossible to do while flying. He took Max back as quickly and easily as he could.

When he turned her over easily on the ground, Fang's breath hitched in his throat. "no," he breathed, "not yet."

**A/N:** Max is a brunette in this story. Why? Because I said so. No offense to blondes, but I just liked her better as a brunette. Total's wings, sorry, they just seemed like dead weight to me. I didn't like the fact that he got wings in the fourth book, that agitated me. So I made them false alarm. Akila was COMPLETE dead weight, so I ousted her too. Sorry if you have any problems, I just sort of banished all that happened in the fourth book from existence.

Next chapter, all will be revealed. Thanks for reading! Review, por favor.

Oh, by-the-by, mi computadora nueva esta aqui!

(: Find yourself a translator if you're not sure what it means ;)


	5. Tick

_4. Tick_

_Be careful what you hope and you pray for  
You know you only get what you pay for.  
And I can hear the ticking of time bombs  
For poor Cinderella.  
_"Cinderella" Aqualung

Dripping. That was the first thing I heard, and believe me, I wasn't happy about it. There was nothing I could do about the repetitive dripping, and it was driving me insane.

When my eyes opened, I realized I was in a small cave, toward the very back. My head wasn't thumping horrendously anymore, but I could feel that it was recovering and preparing for another attack of the sort. Trying to keep myself quiet — somehow, I was aware that it was nighttime — I came farther toward the entrance of the cave to see Iggy and Fang waiting for me. Iggy, who would've grinned in this situation, offered a wave, looking grim. I frowned and sat next to Fang, studying the two boys. "What happened?" I asked, my voice rough. I cleared my throat and tried again.

Fang launched right into interrogation. "Do you have any clue as to what might've caused it?" he asked, turning to look at me. His eyes read worry, which instantly threw me into panic mode. When Fang was worried, things were very, very, _very _wrong. I was almost frightened to ask about what had happened when I was unconscious.

"Nothing," I answered. "It started with a headache, a burning sensation in my neck —"

Next to me, Fang's left hand, which had been sitting in the dirt, clenched into a fist, and his teeth pressed together. Nervous, I reached back and felt my neck. "It's fine now," I finished quickly. "It was probably the Voice, even though —"

"Even though it doesn't hurt anymore when it comes back," Iggy finished, his face paler than normal. I knew he was right.

"You can't lie us a path into the comfort zone this time," Fang told me. Sheesh, how poetic.

Now, I was honestly afraid, and I'm sure my eyes revealed it. "Guys? You're really scaring me," first time I'd ever admitted that in front of someone other than Fang, but I didn't care. I wasn't feeling my snappy, clever self anyway — dropping out of the sky and almost to your death can do that to you sometimes.

I hadn't realized Iggy getting closer to me, but then the tips of his fingers were dusting the back of my neck. For a second, I remembered Fang and I in the cave before our return to the desert where the flock was lost and wondered if Iggy was trying the same approach. Fang was one thing — he was, well, _Fang_. I blushed at the thought. But Iggy was... my brother.

"I can't feel a thing," Iggy muttered. He backed away and returned to his spot across from us. I felt the back of my neck again. Neither could I. Was that bad?

"Can one of you tell me what happened? I'm sure I've been there, done that. Sea monkey attack, killer wasps? Anything of that nature?" I was deathly nervous, but tried to hide it.

"Expiration date," joked Fang.

I smiled. "You get the idea."

Haaah... then I noticed that seriousness was practically written all over his face.

He hadn't been joking.

Oh, shit.

Choking on my own breath, I staggered back, holding a palm over the back of my neck. My eyes were wide, my mouth agape. No. Not fair, so not fair. No, no, no. This wasn't allowed to happen. We'd all dreaded this, and I'd known that if it happened to anyone, I'd be first, but not so soon. Not yet. _Please, God, not yet_.

I must've been standing there a while in denial, just gaping, because Fang's strong arms enveloped me in a hug, his chin resting on my head. Iggy was standing next to us, and I saw his fists tightening and untightening. I snuck a look at him. "Whitecoats," he seethed. "I'll kill them. I'm going to freaking kill them, every last one."

I wasn't crying — in fact, I wasn't _feeling_. I had no humane idea as to how to respond to this. My mind flashed back to when Ari'd shown me his own expiration date. He'd lived about two weeks or so after that, right? So that gave me two weeks. Two weeks to save the world, two weeks to get my affairs in order, two weeks to find an island, two weeks to — oh, God — say goodbye to the flock.

Slowly, I drew away from Fang, pacing. I gritted my teeth together. "How long was I out," not a question. I kept my tone emotionless in hopes that I wouldn't burst into tears. Iggy and Fang, both looking a tad surprised, turned to each other. Ironically, _Iggy _was the one carrying the only watch we possessed. Wordlessly, he held it out to Fang.

"it's almost four thirty now, so around fifteen or sixteen hours. We didn't say anything to the kids," Fang reported. "I don't think they should know yet. They were up late, waiting for you to wake up."

"Scared the crap out of all of us," Iggy told me, and then coughed, making a violent motion with his head toward Fang.

Fang cast a glare at Iggy, then realized he was _blind_, though the smug smile on Iggy's lips proved that he could feel Fang's vibes. "Don't let it happen again," Fang ordered.

I cocked my head to the side, and then saluted him. "Than an order, Sarge?"

Iggy hustled over behind me, and saluted him as well. Together, we marched around our friend, making a circle. Finally, he chuckled, which showed he'd been really worried.

Then I remembered — oh, yeah, weren't we also responsible for four other mutinous birdkids and a talking dog? Upon asking Fang, he said, "The trees. They didn't want to sleep in the cave."

"They said it was easier to protect you while they were in the trees," Iggy put in. "They'd hear something coming earlier."

My eyes welled up with tears. Those were my kids; wanting to protect the matriarch. I didn't want to cry, though, so I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "You guys stayed up all night — please, get a few hours of rest," I begged. "I'll take watch."

"Are you sure?" Fang asked, eyes glazed over with worry.

I nodded. "Of course. Just a few splicey, unraveling genes. I've seen worse, right?" the smile on my face was faux, and Fang saw right through it, saw how my own remark stung.

However, he nodded and led Iggy to the trees. Once they were up there, I put more wood on the small fire in the cave, and began to think. Expiration date. I had an expiration date. I didn't think it would ever happen, but gee, here I was. I realized that neither Fang nor Iggy had told me what the month was, or what it said in general. They didn't want to stress me out, worry me anymore than I already was.

Groaning, I rubbed my temples. Not what I needed. I didn't want to leave the flock. I couldn't. I'd endure anything to survive it. _Anything_. I'd led them too long. They were all my siblings; I needed them to function.

Angel: my baby, I'd raised her since she _was _a baby. My strong little girl had been my assistant back at the School — infiltrated them with me. She would always be by my side, and I loved her dearly.

The Gasman: my trooper. Only eight, but the toughest eight-year-old I knew. Always there for Angel, always protective over all of us. He knew what to do in the toughest of situations, always knew the best move. He was there for me if I needed him.

Nudge: oh, dear, _Nudge_. Such an innocent soul who wanted nothing more than normalcy. So beautiful with the best intentions. She ranted, a lot, but always made sense when she did so. She knew just how to calm any one of us down. Such a good kid.

Iggy: can we say _comic relief? _He brought a whole new pair of eyes to the flock, along with his "highly developed sense of irony." He was there for me when I needed him. Sometimes, he brought negativity, sure, but he was always there for Gazzy. Where would I be without Iggy?

And, of course, Fang... what needed to be said? We'd kissed, what _three _times, and yet still not addressed our feelings? We hadn't had a kiss that both of us contributed to. He was always there for me, more than Iggy, when I was crying, or just needed to talk, vent. I was certain I had different feelings for him than the rest of the flock, I just needed to sort them out.

Before I died.

That was when I realized I was sobbing. Oh, whoops. Not like me to miss important details like that. Also, I could hear the flock beginning to wake, so I quickly turned and fled into the cave, muffling my cries as I did so. _Stop crying_, I told myself, _stop, stop, stop, stop. Compose yourself._

I actually _did _cease the ridiculous weeping. I wiped my eyes and walked toward the sunlight, smiling. "Hey, guys, sorry about that."

Nudge was standing in front of me, and her eyes widened. "Max?" she asked, her voice soft. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I defended quickly.

Too quickly, I guess, because then I was crying all over again, something I _really _needed to stop doing in front of the kids. Regardless, once you start, it's nearly impossible to stop, you know that, so I backed up and leant against the cave wall, leaving Nudge clearly flustered. She walked over and wrapped her arms around me, whispering things in my ear. "It's okay, don't worry... it's okay."

Then, Nudge had pulled away, and someone else had taken her place, and I knew it was Fang. He gathered me in his arms, once again resting his chin on my head. I bent my neck toward him but rested my forehead against the center of his chest. Around me, I was sure the younger kids were shaken. For the first time in my life, I was thankful for long hair, because it covered the death sentence on the back of my neck.

What was I doing, standing here and _sobbing? _These kids needed someone to look up to, to _believe _in, and here I was, drowning in my own tears in the arms of my second-in-command. What a role model.

I guess I had a plausible reason to be crying — hint: it's a succession of six numbers separated into groups of two by hyphens — but none of the kids knew about it. And I would make _sure _they didn't. They didn't need to be worried about _me_.

Shaking, I pulled away from Fang, still half crying. I didn't care; I wanted to _go_, get up in the sky and just _away_. Into the home that always accepted me. "Sorry, guys," I apologized, and fumbled with my own hands. "Let's just — fly." I put my bag over my shoulders, ran, flung open my wings, and took off into the sky.

Leaving five very shocked mutants on the ground below me.

**A/N:** I got Stephenie Meyer's _The Host. _Haven't read the whole thing yet. Seems good so far.

I'm probably going back and editing all these chapters, putting in lyrics at the beginning, but the lyrics may or mayn't correspond to the chapter.

Thanks so much for the reviews. Hope you liked this chapter. Next one should be up soon.

'

—


	6. Distance

_5. Distance_

_Where are the answers that we're all searching for,  
There's nothing in this world to be sure of anymore.  
Some days you're feeling good some days you're feeling bad,  
But if you're feeling happy someone else is always sad,  
Let the sweetness of love wipe the tears from your face.  
_"Pain is So Close to Pleasure" Queen

When I was up in the sky, I didn't feel any better. I was going to die. All over again, tears flooded my eyes, but I wiped them away as quickly as they fell. Behind me, the rest of my flock flew in a tight formation, nearly afraid to come near me after my little breakdown. Fang eventually surged forward, flying next to me. He kept his eyes on me, but I didn't meet them. "Max?" he asked, his voice soft. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded, biting my lip to prevent from screaming. Iggy thought moving all the time was bad, unfair. What about having your death printed, _tattooed _on your skin? "I'm fine," I told him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

This got me to talk. "Sorry? Why are _you _sorry?"

"I don't know; I just hate to see you like this. It's not fair." He read my mind.

I nodded. "I'll live through it," I winked, and then turned around. "You guys can fly near me," I called back to them. "I'm not contagious!" I smiled, and my kids gathered all around me.

"Max, are you okay?"

"Max, what's _wrong?_"

"Why were you crying like that?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Who did something to you? I'll kill 'em!"

"Max —"

"Hey," I put up a hand and silenced them. "It's no big deal. I'm a hormonal teenage girl. Things happen, I get all emotional. I'm okay, guys. Just… hang in there. Sorry about that," I motioned toward the ground. "Let's just pretend it never happened, kay?" I grinned. "Gazzy, you don't have to kill anyone. It's alright." I turned to Fang. "We're over the Gulf now, right?"

He nodded, eyeing the water below us precariously, sending me a glance that said, _You're taking a chance… they're young, they might not be able to fly this far._

I sent him one back that said, _I don't care, but I will when something happens._

He half smiled.

"Alrighty then… let's fly over Cuba. See what we can see. There's got to be some islands off of there."

"Let's go to Havana!" Nudge squealed, and nearly fainted in flight. "There's so much culture there! And they speak Spanish! And it's such a nice place, I read about it once when we were at school with Anne, it was so great, and I've always wanted to go there, I just never said anything because I felt self centered, but now that we're almost there can we please please please pretty please go, it would be so nice and everything —"

"Nudge?" my soft voice interrupted her squeeing. "That's fine. Let's go to Havana."

"OHMIGOD!"

I was silent, and then I cracked a smile. So easily entertained. "But wait, hold on. Don't they speak… Spanish in Cuba?"

Fang nodded.

"How many of us speak Spanish?"

Silence.

"_Como te llamas?_" Iggy asked. "_Tengo un gato en mis pantalones. No me gusta tu cara._" he recited, his accents in all the wrong places, I'm sure. He gave us a thumbs up. "That's the only thing I ever learned to say, and that was because this one kid who sat next to me at Anne's recited it every day."

My eyebrows knitted together. I felt a small jolt of pain as the Voice came in for the first time in a while. _What is your name? I have a cat in my pants. I don't like your face._

I giggled, and my five accomplices looked my way and cocked their heads. "Iggy?" I asked, and he nodded. "You just said you had a cat in your pants. And that you don't like my face."

He smiled proudly. "That's what I'm here for."

We flew over the Gulf of Mexico, which, I must say, is a very pretty sight from up in the air. We didn't hit any planes, which was a miracle, and there were only a few stray birds that looked our way. We were in Cuba in no time, and were trying to find Havana, though none of us spoke fluent enough Spanish to get any damn answers.

The Voice was no help either. _I was trained into Spanish I, and most of that is forgotten anyway. _Dónde está_ means _where is it. _That's all I can do to help you, I'm afraid._

I went with it anyhow. "_¿Dónde está Havana?_" I was asking every single person I passed, but they couldn't answer in English, so it was useless.

There was a young Spanish teen, maybe nineteen, standing playing guitar at the corner of the street as we walked by. The Voice came back, and said, _Kiss him._

You know what? I don't normally go around kissing strangers. We all know I have feelings for Fang. But, when the Voice said this, it must've done some influencing like Angel, because I dropped Total's leash on the thought. Fang dove after it, stepped on the end of it, and said, "What are you _doing?_"

I approached the boy, didn't even think twice about it, and put my lips on his.

I pulled away, and then said, out loud, in front of my flock, "What the _fuck?_"

Subtle, I know. Didn't we already go over this?

Fang gasped — something I'd never heard him do before — and then, all of a sudden, the boy was talking to me. "That was… sudden. What's your name?" he asked, and then laughed a bit at the end. I didn't smile, something was going on, something was odd, but I couldn't quite pick it out.

"Um, sorry about that. I have… Tourette's," and I turned and walked away.

Fang looked furious. "What the hell was that about? He could've been an Eraser?" Not logical. He was mad. Very. "And how the hell did you start speaking Spanish like that? You don't _speak _Spanish. After you kissed him, you rattled off an entire phrase in _Spanish_."

"… Huh?"

"Max, you were speaking in _Spanish_," Nudge enforced, her eyes wide.

New skill, call it. If you ever are in a place where you can't speak or read a language, kiss someone who does, and you'll learn it. Lucky you. Fang's angry. Calm him down, his emotions are running wild because he can't show them that well.

"Fang, Voice says it's a new skill — lip contact teaches me languages. Who would've thunk. Sorry about that, the Voice told me to do it, told me what it would do, so… yeah. Um… shall we?"

I strode ahead of my flock, feeling mortified. I could feel Fang's angry vibes.

_He's mad, _Angel's voice said in my head. _Very mad. But he still loves you, a lot. I'll try to make him understand._

**A/N:** Sorry for the extensive delay… Guys and Dolls, my play, just had its performances and is now over. I'm ridiculously sad. I call it post-production syndrome. I'm very very depressed, since this was my last play at my middle school. This school started me in Annie in sixth grade, my first show _ever_, when I realized I could sing well. Then I was Asaka last year, and now I'm Adelaide, but leaving for high school.  I'm so sad! I've changed so much as a person, and my director has changed me and is responsible for who I am today… I don't feel right leaving. Anyway, I've been sobbing, so please give positive reviews. I know this chapter sucked.

Weirdest thing I've ever had to Google: deserted islands off the coast of Cuba.

If anyone can guess who I stole the ability of kissing someone to get their language from, I will give you mental cookies and use your name in the next chapter, maybe in Spanish form (: I don't own that superhero, just for reference.


	7. Reruns

_6. Reruns_

_Do you mean all the things you are, are you pleased with the way things are?  
Wear that dress to protect this scar that only I have seen.  
__Do you give just to please yourself; do you wish you were somewhere else?  
Justified all the things you tried, said that it was all for me.  
_"Story" Maroon 5

All awkwardness had evaporated after about an hour when we were situated in Havana, sipping lemonade from little glasses with umbrellas in them.

Well, not all of us. Come on, I'm not _that _good. Angel had succeeded in weaseling us two hotel rooms in a nice hotel, and now it was midnight, and she'd succeeded in weaseling us into the pool. Or, succeeded in getting all the guards and hotel staff off our case. She and Gazzy had previously been swimming, but were now in their room, asleep. Nudge was curled up in a reclining lawn chair, asleep, and Iggy was sitting next to her, staring up at the starry sky, full of thought… or, quite possibly, asleep.

Fang and I were seated next to each other, peering at a map of the world uselessly. And you say, "But Max! You and Fang have got such fabulous directional skills, why ever are you using a map?" Dearest, we don't have built in maps. We have sense of direction. And if we tell our sense of direction, "Find us an island off the coast of Mexico," we'll be pointed in about six thousand different directions.

And so, we use a map.

"That one's cute," I said, and pointed to a small island.

Slowly, his head craned up to make eye contact with me. He fumbled for a word for a moment, and then he spoke: "_Cute?_"

I giggled. "Never thought I'd hear you say that word… especially not while you were looking at me."

Every part of his face, except his mouth, smiled. "Oh,_ really_, Miss Fang-Loves-Me. When you're done worshipping yourself, return to planet earth, and I'll finish looking at this map with you."

I frowned. "Come ooooon. I'm not being self-centered, it was a serious remark."

He mumbled something that I didn't hear. "What was that? Was it something like, 'Max is so amazing, and I worship her every move?' Because I know you do. All of you do. I'm Max, for Jesus' sa—" my sentence gave way to a scream. My head was now dangling upside down, and my waist was bent at Fang's shoulders—he was carrying me toward the pool.

"FANG!" I screeched, not caring about all the Spanish people I was probably waking. "FANG, PUT ME _DOWN!_"

"What?" he asked quietly, so only I could hear, "I'm sorry, I don't speak egotistical."

"FANG! PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!" I whaled on his back with my bare feet, and punched at his knees with my fists. "I HATE YOU!"

"Of course you do," he told me, and then I was flying through the air, fully clothed, landing with a _smack _on the water. While submerged, I flipped Fang off, and then came up, watching as he walked away from me, dusting his hands off. _Not so fast_, I thought, and, as quickly as I could, lifted myself out of the pool, darted toward him, and dragged him into the water with me.

I surfaced before he did, and the instant he came up, I shoved him back under. Once again, he rose, coughing, but only to cover up his laughter. I smiled, and started to back away, but he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back under, staying on top of me as we tumbled through the water. While under, I flipped him off again, and then kicked him in the stomach, using the momentum to launch myself to the other side of the pool.

Then I was being dragged out of the pool and into the air. "Fang!" I shouted, laughing, "put me down! I'm soaked, and I'm dripping all over the innocent cacti below me!" I waved my hands above me, but didn't come in contact with Fang's boots. Just by the feel of them, I could tell they weren't Fang's.

I looked down at the pool. There was Fang. Below me. Not holding me by the waist and lifting me high into the sky, faster, faster, faster.

Now he was a mere speck on the pavement.

I'd caused a ruckus, and he knew that. People were emerging from houses, shouting things in Spanish that I could no longer understand, and lights were coming on. He wouldn't risk our safety, which was something I was aware of. So here, I was, rising higher into the Cuban sky, not a savior to my name.

I kicked my feet and swung my momentum around, launched my hands as fists upward, punching my captor's stomach area, and where the sun don't shine. I tried to get a look at them, but their face was completely covered by a mask.

There was an intense pain on the back of my neck—just like what had happened before, only… this seemed less internal. My captor was pressing something against the back of my neck, and it was burning something into me. Branding? Like cows? And then the pressure was gone, along with the heat, and we were continuing to rise.

And then, through the night sky, came Fang, pumping his ash wings as fast as he could through the emptiness. His teeth were clenched and he looked very angry, and shocked at the same time. He punched the thief across the face, and his grip loosened on me, a split second I took advantage of. I wriggled my way free and pressed a hand against my neck, losing altitude as I did so. My wings burst through my wet sweatshirt, nearly ripping it clear off, and I turned around, and faced the person who'd caught me—and gasped.

It wasn't a person at all.

It was an Eraser.

Not a Flyboy, all metal and fakeness. An Eraser. A flying Eraser, not nearly as bad on wings since the last time we'd seen them. Fang was taking him, though, because I could tell how pissed he was.

I caught a warm breeze and rose, feeling my downfeathers ruffle. With perfect grace, I hauled back and punched the jerk in the face, and then in the stomach, and then chopped his back for good measure. Fang came down from above and took him out of the sky, and together we watched him fall into a collection of palm trees, probably losing his wings. There was a final shout, a thud, and then nothing but the warm wind brushing up against the trees.

I caught my breath and stared down at the spot. "What the _hell? _This makes no _sense!_" I started to air pace, which is flying back and forth while deep in thought. "Erasers? When's the last time we saw an Eraser? Ari, and he was _dead, _right? Or—" I stopped as my brain went into overdrive.

I angled myself downward and shot toward the spot where the Eraser had fallen, thoughts rushing through my head. When I made it close to the trees, I tucked my wings in, doing a dive, landing into a front roll. I tripped over vegetation and came to a stop in front of the body. It was pitch black, but I could see perfectly, thanks to the miniscule amount of moon and starlight. The body stunk of raw meat, but I thought Lysol thoughts and rolled it over, flipping the collar of his shirt over. Fang landed quietly behind me as I did this, and came near me, leaning over my shoulder.

The numbers read 8-08-43.

"Holy _shit_," Fang breathed, and let me tell you, that's a _big _thing for him to say.

"What the _hell?_" I whispered, and looked at him. "Am I reading this wrong?"

"Made in August of this year, number _forty-three _of a batch."

"It's September."

"Max, he was made _last month_. He and at least _forty-three others_," he narrated, and then sucked in a breath. He pulled the shredded bits of sweatshirt off my shoulders and pushed my hair back from my neck. "What the hell is this? He… he _barcoded you_."

"Burnt it in?" I turned one side of my face to face him.

"What? No. It looks like this just… appeared. Like what the expiration date did."

"Seriously? Because he pushed something hot against my back, and now it's there."

He paused. "I don't know… but I can guarantee it isn't burnt into it."

We were silent. My brain was fried; I couldn't think about this anymore. "Let's go back," I advised. "I'm tired, and hungry. We'll put the kids to bed and maybe we can continue this conversation, or something else," I said. I tucked in my wings and took off into the sky, with Fang behind me. We flew back to the hotel, and I dropped into the pool area, getting the last glimpse of Iggy carrying Nudge into our hotel room on the ground floor. I smiled, and turned back to Fang, whose eyes were fixed on Iggy.

"Let's go," I told him, grabbed his hand, and led him toward the door.

**A/N:** I apologize that the last chapter was bad, I'm doing better now—a tad sick, but hey, summer's here, so I'm happy! I tried harder with this chapter. Well, actually, this chapter sort of wrote itself, which made me ecstatic.

Oh, and another thing—haah, I had no clue this plot was overused. I'm very sorry, for some of you who didn't think it was going in this direction. Here's an FYI: it isn't. It is, and it isn't. It won't be like the other suckish stories you've read. Believe me. At least… I hope so.

Review, please!


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